


We're never apart in life, death and hell

by Simp_for_1930s_men



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Cannibalism, Drugs, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Human Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Human Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), M/M, Murder, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:33:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28515729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simp_for_1930s_men/pseuds/Simp_for_1930s_men
Summary: No matter where life puts them they will never really be part
Relationships: Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	1. Soulmate

**Author's Note:**

> Cant tell you how long this took to write ~ hope ya like

~1921~ ~April~ 

Soulmates, a strange concept to most. One that is not fully understood, but a part of everyone. Most people start discovering their soulmates at 3 years of age. Not fully understanding who they were til 5, but for some they never get a soulmate. These people usually were destined to be pure evil. Any marking made on your soulmates body appeared up on yours, whether it be a cut, ink, or bodily fluids. Society never really waits to see if some peoples soulmates have not been born yet, they just automatically think you're evil. Not that alastor cared much. It hurt to disappoint his mother, but he couldn't really help it. By 18 most people who had super young soulmates got them.

Alastor didn't care, he was crazy as it was. He found joy in the screams of others, regularly ate live people. Alastor supposes his interest came from being in his dad's butcher shop most days when he was younger. Not that his dad chopped up humans, but Al thought of it. Al had already made quite a name for himself. ‘Louisiana Butcher’. More than 300+ victims. Alastor was also quite the popular radio host, who ironically covered his own carnegie. Al tapped his foot at the random scratch that was forming on his forearm. A soulmark he supposed. Alastor decided to ignore it. They'd reach out when they were ready. Alastor presumed they were pretty young anyway.

Al got up from his chair and grabbed the newspaper, flipping it over to look at the new information they have on the ‘Butcher’. The headlines read:

FEAR STRUCK INTO THE CITIZENS OF NEW ORLEANS! LOUISIANA

BUTCHER STRIKES AGAIN!

Found in an Alleyway in the backstreets of New Orleans, 14 year old Alice Hartley found strung limb from limb off a so-called “Hanging Tree’! This brings the body count to 305, and still no information/evidence to connect someone to these bump offs.

Alastor chuckled, they still had no connections. The time was nearing 8:30 A.M. so Al got up to get ready for work. He threw on his white dress shirt, with a deep red vest on top. A red coloured bow tie, and black trousers. Alastor trudged through his apartment door down to the radio station. It was a tall black brick building with a green overhead canvas awning with yellow lettering. Alastor walked in and greeted his fellow co-workers.

As Al reached his broadcasting station he sighed. The room smelled like smokey old wood, with the hint of old records. Alastor sat in his leather chair and started flipping on all his equipment. Getting comfortable, Alastor grabbed the microphone to start his broadcast.

“Ah ah! Hello Ladies and Gentlemen! Tis’ Alastor at your services. Today we will be having our best of the week segment, starting with a few number 1 hit songs on the song billboard!” Alastor grabbed the first record off the pile beside his desk and put it on the vinyl player. Playing was, I Ain't Got Nobody: Marion Harris. Alastor hummed along while he sorted out his daily paperwork for the upcoming contract revision. As the song continued on Al noticed some writing in Ink forming upon his wrist.

~HI! My name is Antony, I am 5 years old, can’t you beleve it! I’m not very good at spelling yet i hope you reply back~

Alastor put down his pen and stared at it for a bit. Should he respond? Sure it was his ‘soulmate’, but they were still so young. Pondering it for a minute, Al put the pen to his skin. He could start with a smiley face.

~:)~

Alastor watched a similar looking smiley face appear on himself. Good start he figured. The record soon came to an end and Al switched to his microphone.

“What a song! One this week's segment we have a news story regarding the Louisiana Butcher. Now my take on the story was quite fascinating, yes indeedy! It seems this killer is very careful, how no one has caught them is wild, over 300 killings in the span of 3 years!’ Al paused as he spun around in his chair, covering his own killings was thrilling. He got to boast about his victims without being suspected at all. With a cheshire grin Alastor grabbed his mic once more.

“We should break for a song, folks!” he mused. Grabbing a record Al tossed it on the player. The day passed on with records and in between stories on the headlines and a few call ins. As the sun set into an orange tang, Alastor walked out the studio another day done and gone. Al walked the streets humming a tune with his ever present smile. He passed greens and blues on his way to the bayou. His favourite place to relax before going on his infamous spree. Maybe he’d go for two unwilling victims tonight. A wonderful thought. Alastor reached the bayou and found his way under a tree. The sun set into darkness and it was time for Al to start his fun. He wondered around just waiting for an unsuspecting walker of the night. His knife was secured in his hand. Al spotted a head a few hundred feet away, closing up on it Al reached over to lock the victim in a headlock. Knife up against their throat.

“So, sha, how does it feel to be my next victim, all terrified and helpless..” Al said, his smile growing into this wicked grin oozing of evil. He slid the knife deeper into their throat, blood spewing out as they screamed for help. Head falling lifelessly, Alastor brought the knife down the middle of their sternum, slicing the body in two. Guts being ripped out, Al brought the liver to his mouth. The smell of raw flesh and blood making his hunger roar. Tearing into the organ Al drug the knife down the leg, bones being made the star of the show. Finishing his meal Al took the bones and spread them around. Slicing the legs into bits from there. Feeling his work was done Alastor, laid the body down and left. Soaked in blood he walked towards a swamp area to get cleaned off. As he was cleaning himself he realized his ‘soulmate’ would randomly be covered in blood. Not that he can help it now, lowkey hoping they didn’t mention anything about it.


	2. Little Sparks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anthony's time with figuring out thé soulmate biz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My brother came up with the badical chapter title, i was way motivated to write this chapter from thé one comment i got lol sorry its not as long as chapter 1 but its something. Hope ya like

~1921~ ~April~ 

Anthony and Molly sat at the dining room table slowly eating their cereal. Arackniss was busy writing away to his soulmate on his arm. Molly put her spoon down and turned towards her twin.

“Hey ‘Tony, you think our soulmates are born yet?”

“I don’t know Molls”

“After breakfast we should go find out!” She said hyperactively, picking her spoon up and shoveling her food down like a horse. Anthony chuckled at his sister's actions and resumed with his food as well. Finishing and putting their dishes in the sink, the pair ran to their shared room and giggled in excitement. 

“ What do ya think they are like, Tony?”  
“Not sure, I hope mine is silly!” Anthony squealed to his sister. Molly ran to grab a pen and quickly scribbled a ‘Hi’ on her arm. She handed ‘Tony the pen, which he hesitated for a moment. What if his soulmate wasn’t born yet? Or if they didn’t like him?

“Do ya think you could write for me? Your handwriting is better and you can spell easier.” Anthony held his arm out for Molly to write on.

~HI! My name is Antony, I am 5 years old, can’t you beleve it! I’m not very good at spelling yet I hope you reply back~ They both sat back and waited for more ink to appear. A little while later a smiley face appeared.

“Molly! I Got a Smiley Face!” Molly snapped her head toward her brothers and started squealing at the site.

“Should you write something else?!” She was excited for her brother wanting nothing but the best for him.

“I could do another smiley?”

“Wonderful “Tony”

Anthony carefully drew an identical face on his arm, squealing with excitement. He had a soulmate! Hanging out with Molly until dinner. Anthony glotad at the table about his soulmate Molls giggling with him. Cleaning up and heading to bed Molly and her brother were soon passed out. Later into the night Molly slowly awoke her eyes drifting for her twins bedside. Spotting blood, her eyes shot open and she rushed to her brother's side. Anthony was drenched in blood, soaking through his sheets and clothes. Molly panicked, what happened? Did her brothers soulmate get hurt?

“‘Tony! Wake up!” She whispered, shaking her twin in utmost panic. When her brother didn’t stir the first few times, Molly started to think he got hurt. Shaking her brother a few more times, Anthony rubbed his eyes open looking at his sister's panicked expression, visibly calm seeing her twin move.

“Yes Molls, what's the matter?” he croaked most unsmoothly, completely tired and confused. Did Molls have a nightmare? Was she hurt?

“You’re covered in blood ‘Tony?!” She cried.

Anthony's eyes widened, scrambling out of bed. Glancing himself down, he was covered in blood, but from what? Did he hurt himself in his sleep? He thought of his soulmate for a second which scared his little head even more. He didn’t know what to do, why it was happening or how. Him and Molly collected the sheets and he changed his clothes, adding the soiled ones to their pile.

“What do you think happened Molls?”

“Maybe your mate got hurt?”

Anthony didn’t want to think about it, his tiny mind couldn't grasp the reality of death. Not his mothers, definitely not someones he was destined to be with for the rest if his life. Taking his clothes and sheets down to the washroom they waited on them to be clean for “Tony to go back to bed. Still freaked out, Anthony paced his mind wasn’t developed enough to understand what was going on in the slightest bit. Should he ask about it? It seemed like the best answer. Once Anthony's things were done, they walked back to their room. Soon passing back out. ‘Tony figured he’d ask in the morning.


End file.
